ficcage plus talkin'
'Sup.
Mai has had a Hubs test, a gender essay of doom this week, and has a epidemiology test this weekend. Because Mai is a lazy cow, Mai is not studying.
Nah, we just had our midwinter christmas. With secret santa. I bought my next-one-over-neighbour a nice little glass thing with the Footprints story on it, and I got a box of Favourites in return. Well, what the hell can you buy with five dollars?
Been watching Sarah Jane adventures on Youtube. Gods, I'm in love with the whole damn 'verse. Also found Battlefield, for which I've read the novelisation. And I really, really liked the novelisation, because the Doctor turns out to be Merlin.
Here's Trailblazer part four, because I'm nice like that. Not, just been procrastinating on the whole damned thing.
Part Four
Things begin to change. We’re getting desperate, and all the Erasers are losing what it means to be Pack. So, for us, the rules have to change. We can’t do this on our own, because there aren’t enough of us, and the stakes are so high. With this much to lose, we just know that we’re going to fall hard. And that’s not the only kind of falling that I do.
--
I’m hiding in the vents. The ventilation system that provides for our little hideout also has another benefit - unlimited access to a significant proportion of the building. If of course, by access you mean the ability to spy, and by unlimited, the amount of patience you’ve got for crawling through claustrophobic and dusty-ridden metal tubes not much bigger than you are. I’m thinking of killing Skid, as it was his stupid idea to send me down here.
Predictably, the guys cannot fit. There are a few disadvantages to being an Eraser female, and one of them is lack of size compared to our male counterparts.
Because they hadn’t been able to come down here, the vent cover that leads to the tubes had been covered with junk and left. Until Skid had the bright idea of uncovering it and sending me down to keep an eye on what’s going on out there. It has the perk of keeping me from becoming bored out of my mind, but with extremely limited access to the showers that small perk isn’t all that worth it.
I’ve only been in here four times before, and have scarcely ventured out of familiar territory - the few corridors I’ve seen around the hideout. It’s not out of fear, but out of necessity. I cannot be found out, and I need to be able to find my way back if I need to.
The corridors are empty, but then, this is a deserted area of the Den, so I’m not all that surprised. Today’s ‘mission’, as Flash calls them mockingly, is to find out what’s in the locked room three corridors over. If the door hadn’t been steel with one hell of a locking mechanism then they would have just barged through it, but it is, so they can’t, and they send me instead.
Flash is waiting underneath a vent that runs down the length of the hallway. There’s a grate, and I can see him through it. I resist the urge to pull funny faces at the top of his head, but I do stare intently, waiting to see if he thinks he’s being watched. After a minute, he starts to fidget, glancing up and down the corridor nervously.
I grin, “God is watching, Flash!” I say in as deep a voice as I can manage. Flash jumps, and glares upwards. I duck out of sight.
“Ursula!” he hisses quietly. “Ursula!” I don’t answer, instead I wait for a count of sixty and then I make a big show of heaving myself into sight like I’ve only just got there. He’s obviously annoyed with me if he’s used my real name, usually I’m just called Red now.
Flash is glaring still. I look at him innocently, “What?” I say, “Why are you glaring at me?”
He swears under his breath, and marches down the hallway to the next grate. Giggling softly, I slither along down the vent, ignoring the dust and glad of the ‘scarf’ that’s been tied around my mouth and nose so that I can breathe.
Flash is waiting impatiently at the next grate. “It’s the next room down on the left that we can’t get into,” he tells me, “about six metres.” I press my face to the dusty metal, but I can’t quite see the door.
“Okay,” I reply, “I’ll take your word for it.” I look down the vents to see where they’re going - the next junction is a T junction and it’s about ten metres away. I tell Flash this, and he just shrugs. He doesn’t know anything more than I do.
It’s dark, and there are no grates coming up that I can see, but I still crawl forwards. When I reach the junction, it’s only a left or a right, so I take the left. I figure I’ll go up until there’s another junction. There’s a faint light coming from somewhere, but I don’t know where. I just keep heading forwards, because I can’t turn around in the narrow space. I turn left again, figuring that if there’s a back way in, it’ll be down here. Sometimes I still don’t know when to quit.
I make the round trip back to the grate where I started. There’s no obvious way in, and I’m tired, dusty and sore. I’m not going to bother. Flash greets me from down below, and I tell him that I’m headed back. I begin the journey back, sighing. The dust is beginning to get to me and my arms are burning.
I’m two corridors over from the Den, but it’s not really all that far in my kind of straight line, when I hear the fight start. It’s behind me, so I back up until I can turn at one of the junctions.
I scramble down the vents, not having to be quiet for once - the noise masks me. As I get closer I begin to smell it. Blood, fresh blood. All Erasers know that smell, the tangy metallic hint of life, stirring through the air. All wolves know it. I peer into the darkness, and let my eyes adjust. This corridor is dark, no lights at all.
And then I see who is fighting.
I turn around as fast as I can, and race through the vents, faster than I’ve been through them before. I still don’t care about the noise. The guys hear me coming, and they’ve got the trapdoor open.
“Flash!” I gasp out, as Skid hauls me out of the vent. “Three corridors over. There’s four of them. Hurry!”
Skid abruptly drops me, and they all rush out of the room. I tear off the scarf, and frustrated, kick the vent cover shut. I can’t help, damnit. I hear the big door slam, and get up. It might as well be closed, because if it isn’t it’s more of a taunt for me to leave. To help.
I can’t leave the Den to shower, which frustrates me even more. The best I can do Is sponge myself down with a little of the water left over from the last meal. It doesn’t stop me from feeling horrible, sticky and sore and worried, but I’m doing something.
They come back carrying only Flash’s necklace coin. It’s old and worn, but it’s shiny, and that makes it somewhat valuable. Raven hands it to me. Silently, I put it around my neck. They don’t need to say anything. Flash isn’t coming back. Not this time.
Not ever.
We don’t talk much for the next few days. What can we say? There’s a big huge gap in our tiny little pack, and it’s not one that we can fill. I keep to my bed or the storeroom, the guys keep to their beds. We pass each other, nod, and move on. I don’t get my shower for a day, but then I don’t feel like it. And I don’t ask what happened to Flash’s body.
It’s just another dead person to remember, another weight. This life destroys you.
“It looks like we’re throwing our lot in with Stryke’s lot,” Raven says, poking his head through the curtain. “We’re meeting with him tomorrow.” It’s Raven’s way of reaching out to me.
I put down the book I’m struggling to read - I was never very good at reading or writing. Raven and I are back on good terms again after what seems to be our hundredth fight, because it doesn’t seem to matter, any of it, anymore. I know it’s not the hundredth- I haven’t been here that long. Less than six weeks. I wonder when the next lot of girls are thinking. They’re supposed be taken around now, but I doubt they have because of the lockdown.
.
“Stryke’s the one with the smallest group,” I note, pulling myself out of useless, childish memories.
Raven grimaces at my comment. He knows I have a point. “He’s better than Leader or Roe. And it’s not like we have a choice at the moment, just the four of us here means we’re sitting ducks.”
I nod at Raven’s words. I’ve been expecting this ever since Flash died. “Can...will I be safe? With them?”
Raven looks way, but he still comes to sit beside me on the bed. “I don’t want you to get hurt, Ursula,” he says softly. “Which is why it is Stryke, and not the others. Leader’s will tear you to shreds, and Roe’s lot are worse.” I smile sadly to myself. These boys - their loyalty to me will get them killed one day. Like it got Flash killed.
“Okay,” I say, but my misgivings must show in my voice, because Raven takes my hand.
“We’ll look after you, Red,” he says.
“I know,” I nod, and I know he means it. And I realise just how glad I am that I met Raven. How much he means to me, despite how much we argue. Or maybe even because of it. I’ve never had an equal before - someone I can argue with. And I think that he knows, because he leans forward and kisses me as only an Eraser can.
My book slides off my ‘bed’ as Raven pushes me down into it, unresisting. If anything, I’m pulling him down with me. And the rational part of my mind thinks, just quickly, that it is about time too. And then the less rational, more Eraser parts take over, shoving sense down into a corner until everything becomes sensation.
My hands in Raven’s hair, grabbing his shoulders, trailing down his back and my mouth moves across his throat. Raven’s hands, rough from morph on my skin, his tongue tracing my ear.
Our clothes are gone, torn away, neither of us caring, and Raven is still very much in control. Just how he likes it. And I let him control me - deep down there is that thrill of fear, that tiny challenge that I love to face.
Raven doesn’t leave like I’d thought he’d do afterwards, instead he traces circles on my bare arm as he settles down behind me, pulling me into his arms. He drops off into sleep soon enough and, comfortable, I follow.
When I wake up the next morning, he’s still there. I wake up as he moves, and I pull my pillow over my head, grumbling. Raven laughs. “Go back to sleep, Red,” He tells me.
Predictably, I don’t. There’s too much to think about. But I don’t get up, because I’m not quite ready to face the world. I’m confused - there are too many thoughts in my head right now. It’s not as if I’m really all that attached to Raven - I’m attracted to him, but I’m not in love with him. I don’t think Erasers can love. Love is a chemical reaction, I’ve heard it said. Love is a weakness. Maybe the Scientists bred out the weakness. What I hate the most, is that I can’t help but think of how lucky I am that I got to choose this. Not like Thera or Sparta or Jewel or all the others so far.
I have to get up sometime, and so I do around midday. I don’t doubt that Skid and Dusty know, but I think that they’re resigned to the fact that I’m not really interested, and that I’ll kick their asses if they try anything.
There’s only a couple of hours until the meeting, so I clean up, and get some new clothes. I want to be presentable, even if I don’t know why. It helps me with my nervousness though. We gather in the Den, and Raven nods at us in turn. This is a big moment for me - the first time I’ve been out of the Den properly.
The Meeting with Stryke and his court goes...interestingly. The four of us have been offered safe passage into Stryke’s command centre from the edge of his territory - it’s up to us to get there. We set off with a sack of rations - proof positive that we mean what we say. No one has food to spare anymore, and rumors abound that Leader’s lot have started eating their own dead.
We meet the “honour guard” at the most neutral location on Stryke’s border. Neither side can ambush here, no one owns it and there’s nowhere for anyone to hide anyway.
Stryke’s Guard are surprised to see me, and that’s to say the least. They don’t try anything, but they do look, and while I haven’t, and will never forget Knife’s looks, I’ve almost forgotten the intensity of six pairs of wandering hungry eyes. It’s enough to throw them off balance just enough for the advantage. They’re too busy watching me to be watching the others.
We’re led to the command centre, and even with my good memory I doubt I could follow the route again. We’re lead on switchback after switchback. The command centre looks like it’s probably an old lab. The walls are still faintly white, and the antiseptic smell is stronger here than I’ve smelt it anywhere in the building. It’s surprisingly clean also, with no windows to let light in, but an old ventilation system in the roof. Maybe this joins up with ours, so I make a mental note to do some more exploring in this area of the vents. If we can move the goods here without being in the open, then it’s a good idea.
Stryke doesn’t have anything resembling a dias - he and his five advisors are sitting round a table, probably an old lab bench. The advisors might be sitting on an equal level but it’s immediately obvious who is in charge. They stand when we approach, waiting for the leaders go start things off. All eyes in the room are on Raven, until I’m introduced. I smile flirtingly at Stryke, and he licks his lips, wearing an expression of halfway between surprise and amusement.
“You always were full of surprises!” Stryke says to Raven, but his eyes are on me.
“As were you, Stryke,” Raven retorts easily. I realise these two must have known each other somehow, somewhen. I file it away, intending to ask questions later. Lots of questions.
Stryke motions for us to take a seat, and we do. “I understand that you have a proposition for me, Raven?” Stryke has a rather deep but smooth voice. He looks old, maybe four-and-a-half to five years old. He’s dark haired, with dark eyes, and relatively few scars on his face. There are quite a few on his hands. He’s medium-sized - larger than Raven but smaller than Deimos was. Most of his advisors/lieutenants are smaller than he is, but they all share the dark hair and eyes.
Raven grins. “We’d like to support your noble cause,” he says. “We’d be willing to give you supplies and our own not so meagre manpower for the right to have a say in how this is run.”
Stryke leans forwards. “The three of you and the girl? And you want to sit on the council.” He’s looking amused. “It’s not a lot that you’re offering me, and a lot that I’m supposed to let you have in return.”
Raven stands and lightly drops the sack in the middle of the table. “Supplies.” He explains. “We’ve enough to feed an army. You have an army,” Raven grins. “How convenient that is.”
One of the advisors takes the bag, and overturns it on the table. There’s a small selection of what we’ve got in there - mostly food, because food’s what’s the most valuable at the moment.
“As you can see, we’ve got food,” Raven points out, after a minute of silence.
The advisor, named Toray, snorts disbelievingly. “I hardly think that a half-sack of MRE’s consists of enough to feed an army, Raven.”
Stryke nods. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”
“Am I?” Raven asks. “Who has that much food that they can afford to throw it around anymore?”
This gets a laugh out of Stryke. “A clever trick, but an easy one.” He says. “I think this is all you have, and you’re trying to get something for nothing.”
The macho posturing is beginning to wear on my nerves. I look up from my indifferent inspection of my nails, which has really been a cover for my scan of the room and all in it. “We must be wasting our time then, Raven,” I say. All eyes are back on me, but I don’t care. “They’re not interested. So let’s go.”
Raven nods, and stands. We all follow suit, Skid swinging the other half-full sack up onto his shoulder so everyone can see it. “I’m afraid you’re right, Red. We’re wasting time with this lot.” Raven says. A few of the guards take a few steps closer, glaring, but waiting for Stryke’s command.
“Do you always allow your bitch to do your thinking for you?” Toray asks Raven, sneering. I ignore it - I’m only a bitch if I respond to the insult.
Raven looks back noncommittally, “Which bitch would you be referring to?” he asks politely, “I don’t have any bitches, last time I checked.”
Toray swings his attention to me. “Not enough of an Eraser for you is he? Stay with me and I’ll show you a real good time.”
I meet his gaze fearlessly. “You’re not my type,” I say, and then snub him by turning back to Raven. “We leaving?”
Toray lunges to his feet. “Ain’t no bitch gonna ignore me!” He snarls. I continue to ignore him, watching Raven, who rolls his eyes. “I’m gonna...”
“Toray!” Stryke interrupts. “Our guests are to be respected.” He says it quietly, but firmly. There’s no threat in his tone, but among Erasers, that’s a threat in itself.
“We’ll allow you time to think on our proposal, then, Stryke.” Raven says, smoothly diverting attention away from Toray’s reprimand. “Keep that,” and he nods at the MRE’s on the table, “As a sign of... friendship.”
Stryke stands. “I shall think on your proposal, Raven. We’ll send word if we choose to meet again.” Then they nod at each other. I resist the urge to sigh and roll my eyes. Males. They have to make things complicated.
We leave without incident, and are taken back to the meeting point via another twisting and turning route. The honour guard let us go, and we’re not followed. Even so, it’s not until I’m back in the Den that I allow myself to relax. Skid and Dusty grab food, but I’m too wound up to eat. Raven follows me to my bed.
We talk about what we thought of the meeting when we wake up. I mention my idea of spying on them, and even though he doesn’t like the idea of me getting caught, he agrees. Two hours later, I’m back in the vents.
Finding my way to the place where I think that Stryke’s command is holed up is not easy. The vents don’t always follow the corridors, they cut through labs, go between levels, and sometimes they end in random places. After three hours, I think I’ve got something. A corridor that looks familiar. It’s not much, but it’s something. I follow the corridor as well as I can, and I’m careful to be extra quiet. Then, jackpot.
It’s the main room, although not much is going on. I don’t see any of the lieutenants, and I learn nothing of tactical worth. It’s interesting to watch a ‘normal’ Eraser pack in how they interact - I’ve never seen that before, so I watch for a while. Then I start moving again.
I peer through the grill, down into the next room. Stryke’s there, sitting by himself, gnawing on one of the bars of food we brought in earlier. He finishes half of it, and then tosses it away, or at least I think he does. He’s not alone in the room - someone else shuffles into view, the bar in hand.
The newcomer is female, I realise with surprise.
I don’t gasp, I don’t even move. I’d be heard, and I know better. I recognise her, just faintly. She was one of us, one of the ones from the Room. I’m not the only one here... well, I knew that, but maybe, maybe I can talk to her. If we merge with Stryke’s group.
She sits down next to Stryke, and they take turns gnawing on the bar. They don’t talk much, but I learn more than a few things. Her name is Thalia, and she genuinely cares for Stryke. My opinion of him rises, and I realise that their relationship is not so different from mine and Raven’s.
Maybe he won’t dismiss me out of hand, just for being female.
I leave as they become... involved. It doesn’t seem right for me to intrude on that.
Mai has had a Hubs test, a gender essay of doom this week, and has a epidemiology test this weekend. Because Mai is a lazy cow, Mai is not studying.
Nah, we just had our midwinter christmas. With secret santa. I bought my next-one-over-neighbour a nice little glass thing with the Footprints story on it, and I got a box of Favourites in return. Well, what the hell can you buy with five dollars?
Been watching Sarah Jane adventures on Youtube. Gods, I'm in love with the whole damn 'verse. Also found Battlefield, for which I've read the novelisation. And I really, really liked the novelisation, because the Doctor turns out to be Merlin.
Here's Trailblazer part four, because I'm nice like that. Not, just been procrastinating on the whole damned thing.
Part Four
Things begin to change. We’re getting desperate, and all the Erasers are losing what it means to be Pack. So, for us, the rules have to change. We can’t do this on our own, because there aren’t enough of us, and the stakes are so high. With this much to lose, we just know that we’re going to fall hard. And that’s not the only kind of falling that I do.
--
I’m hiding in the vents. The ventilation system that provides for our little hideout also has another benefit - unlimited access to a significant proportion of the building. If of course, by access you mean the ability to spy, and by unlimited, the amount of patience you’ve got for crawling through claustrophobic and dusty-ridden metal tubes not much bigger than you are. I’m thinking of killing Skid, as it was his stupid idea to send me down here.
Predictably, the guys cannot fit. There are a few disadvantages to being an Eraser female, and one of them is lack of size compared to our male counterparts.
Because they hadn’t been able to come down here, the vent cover that leads to the tubes had been covered with junk and left. Until Skid had the bright idea of uncovering it and sending me down to keep an eye on what’s going on out there. It has the perk of keeping me from becoming bored out of my mind, but with extremely limited access to the showers that small perk isn’t all that worth it.
I’ve only been in here four times before, and have scarcely ventured out of familiar territory - the few corridors I’ve seen around the hideout. It’s not out of fear, but out of necessity. I cannot be found out, and I need to be able to find my way back if I need to.
The corridors are empty, but then, this is a deserted area of the Den, so I’m not all that surprised. Today’s ‘mission’, as Flash calls them mockingly, is to find out what’s in the locked room three corridors over. If the door hadn’t been steel with one hell of a locking mechanism then they would have just barged through it, but it is, so they can’t, and they send me instead.
Flash is waiting underneath a vent that runs down the length of the hallway. There’s a grate, and I can see him through it. I resist the urge to pull funny faces at the top of his head, but I do stare intently, waiting to see if he thinks he’s being watched. After a minute, he starts to fidget, glancing up and down the corridor nervously.
I grin, “God is watching, Flash!” I say in as deep a voice as I can manage. Flash jumps, and glares upwards. I duck out of sight.
“Ursula!” he hisses quietly. “Ursula!” I don’t answer, instead I wait for a count of sixty and then I make a big show of heaving myself into sight like I’ve only just got there. He’s obviously annoyed with me if he’s used my real name, usually I’m just called Red now.
Flash is glaring still. I look at him innocently, “What?” I say, “Why are you glaring at me?”
He swears under his breath, and marches down the hallway to the next grate. Giggling softly, I slither along down the vent, ignoring the dust and glad of the ‘scarf’ that’s been tied around my mouth and nose so that I can breathe.
Flash is waiting impatiently at the next grate. “It’s the next room down on the left that we can’t get into,” he tells me, “about six metres.” I press my face to the dusty metal, but I can’t quite see the door.
“Okay,” I reply, “I’ll take your word for it.” I look down the vents to see where they’re going - the next junction is a T junction and it’s about ten metres away. I tell Flash this, and he just shrugs. He doesn’t know anything more than I do.
It’s dark, and there are no grates coming up that I can see, but I still crawl forwards. When I reach the junction, it’s only a left or a right, so I take the left. I figure I’ll go up until there’s another junction. There’s a faint light coming from somewhere, but I don’t know where. I just keep heading forwards, because I can’t turn around in the narrow space. I turn left again, figuring that if there’s a back way in, it’ll be down here. Sometimes I still don’t know when to quit.
I make the round trip back to the grate where I started. There’s no obvious way in, and I’m tired, dusty and sore. I’m not going to bother. Flash greets me from down below, and I tell him that I’m headed back. I begin the journey back, sighing. The dust is beginning to get to me and my arms are burning.
I’m two corridors over from the Den, but it’s not really all that far in my kind of straight line, when I hear the fight start. It’s behind me, so I back up until I can turn at one of the junctions.
I scramble down the vents, not having to be quiet for once - the noise masks me. As I get closer I begin to smell it. Blood, fresh blood. All Erasers know that smell, the tangy metallic hint of life, stirring through the air. All wolves know it. I peer into the darkness, and let my eyes adjust. This corridor is dark, no lights at all.
And then I see who is fighting.
I turn around as fast as I can, and race through the vents, faster than I’ve been through them before. I still don’t care about the noise. The guys hear me coming, and they’ve got the trapdoor open.
“Flash!” I gasp out, as Skid hauls me out of the vent. “Three corridors over. There’s four of them. Hurry!”
Skid abruptly drops me, and they all rush out of the room. I tear off the scarf, and frustrated, kick the vent cover shut. I can’t help, damnit. I hear the big door slam, and get up. It might as well be closed, because if it isn’t it’s more of a taunt for me to leave. To help.
I can’t leave the Den to shower, which frustrates me even more. The best I can do Is sponge myself down with a little of the water left over from the last meal. It doesn’t stop me from feeling horrible, sticky and sore and worried, but I’m doing something.
They come back carrying only Flash’s necklace coin. It’s old and worn, but it’s shiny, and that makes it somewhat valuable. Raven hands it to me. Silently, I put it around my neck. They don’t need to say anything. Flash isn’t coming back. Not this time.
Not ever.
We don’t talk much for the next few days. What can we say? There’s a big huge gap in our tiny little pack, and it’s not one that we can fill. I keep to my bed or the storeroom, the guys keep to their beds. We pass each other, nod, and move on. I don’t get my shower for a day, but then I don’t feel like it. And I don’t ask what happened to Flash’s body.
It’s just another dead person to remember, another weight. This life destroys you.
“It looks like we’re throwing our lot in with Stryke’s lot,” Raven says, poking his head through the curtain. “We’re meeting with him tomorrow.” It’s Raven’s way of reaching out to me.
I put down the book I’m struggling to read - I was never very good at reading or writing. Raven and I are back on good terms again after what seems to be our hundredth fight, because it doesn’t seem to matter, any of it, anymore. I know it’s not the hundredth- I haven’t been here that long. Less than six weeks. I wonder when the next lot of girls are thinking. They’re supposed be taken around now, but I doubt they have because of the lockdown.
.
“Stryke’s the one with the smallest group,” I note, pulling myself out of useless, childish memories.
Raven grimaces at my comment. He knows I have a point. “He’s better than Leader or Roe. And it’s not like we have a choice at the moment, just the four of us here means we’re sitting ducks.”
I nod at Raven’s words. I’ve been expecting this ever since Flash died. “Can...will I be safe? With them?”
Raven looks way, but he still comes to sit beside me on the bed. “I don’t want you to get hurt, Ursula,” he says softly. “Which is why it is Stryke, and not the others. Leader’s will tear you to shreds, and Roe’s lot are worse.” I smile sadly to myself. These boys - their loyalty to me will get them killed one day. Like it got Flash killed.
“Okay,” I say, but my misgivings must show in my voice, because Raven takes my hand.
“We’ll look after you, Red,” he says.
“I know,” I nod, and I know he means it. And I realise just how glad I am that I met Raven. How much he means to me, despite how much we argue. Or maybe even because of it. I’ve never had an equal before - someone I can argue with. And I think that he knows, because he leans forward and kisses me as only an Eraser can.
My book slides off my ‘bed’ as Raven pushes me down into it, unresisting. If anything, I’m pulling him down with me. And the rational part of my mind thinks, just quickly, that it is about time too. And then the less rational, more Eraser parts take over, shoving sense down into a corner until everything becomes sensation.
My hands in Raven’s hair, grabbing his shoulders, trailing down his back and my mouth moves across his throat. Raven’s hands, rough from morph on my skin, his tongue tracing my ear.
Our clothes are gone, torn away, neither of us caring, and Raven is still very much in control. Just how he likes it. And I let him control me - deep down there is that thrill of fear, that tiny challenge that I love to face.
Raven doesn’t leave like I’d thought he’d do afterwards, instead he traces circles on my bare arm as he settles down behind me, pulling me into his arms. He drops off into sleep soon enough and, comfortable, I follow.
When I wake up the next morning, he’s still there. I wake up as he moves, and I pull my pillow over my head, grumbling. Raven laughs. “Go back to sleep, Red,” He tells me.
Predictably, I don’t. There’s too much to think about. But I don’t get up, because I’m not quite ready to face the world. I’m confused - there are too many thoughts in my head right now. It’s not as if I’m really all that attached to Raven - I’m attracted to him, but I’m not in love with him. I don’t think Erasers can love. Love is a chemical reaction, I’ve heard it said. Love is a weakness. Maybe the Scientists bred out the weakness. What I hate the most, is that I can’t help but think of how lucky I am that I got to choose this. Not like Thera or Sparta or Jewel or all the others so far.
I have to get up sometime, and so I do around midday. I don’t doubt that Skid and Dusty know, but I think that they’re resigned to the fact that I’m not really interested, and that I’ll kick their asses if they try anything.
There’s only a couple of hours until the meeting, so I clean up, and get some new clothes. I want to be presentable, even if I don’t know why. It helps me with my nervousness though. We gather in the Den, and Raven nods at us in turn. This is a big moment for me - the first time I’ve been out of the Den properly.
The Meeting with Stryke and his court goes...interestingly. The four of us have been offered safe passage into Stryke’s command centre from the edge of his territory - it’s up to us to get there. We set off with a sack of rations - proof positive that we mean what we say. No one has food to spare anymore, and rumors abound that Leader’s lot have started eating their own dead.
We meet the “honour guard” at the most neutral location on Stryke’s border. Neither side can ambush here, no one owns it and there’s nowhere for anyone to hide anyway.
Stryke’s Guard are surprised to see me, and that’s to say the least. They don’t try anything, but they do look, and while I haven’t, and will never forget Knife’s looks, I’ve almost forgotten the intensity of six pairs of wandering hungry eyes. It’s enough to throw them off balance just enough for the advantage. They’re too busy watching me to be watching the others.
We’re led to the command centre, and even with my good memory I doubt I could follow the route again. We’re lead on switchback after switchback. The command centre looks like it’s probably an old lab. The walls are still faintly white, and the antiseptic smell is stronger here than I’ve smelt it anywhere in the building. It’s surprisingly clean also, with no windows to let light in, but an old ventilation system in the roof. Maybe this joins up with ours, so I make a mental note to do some more exploring in this area of the vents. If we can move the goods here without being in the open, then it’s a good idea.
Stryke doesn’t have anything resembling a dias - he and his five advisors are sitting round a table, probably an old lab bench. The advisors might be sitting on an equal level but it’s immediately obvious who is in charge. They stand when we approach, waiting for the leaders go start things off. All eyes in the room are on Raven, until I’m introduced. I smile flirtingly at Stryke, and he licks his lips, wearing an expression of halfway between surprise and amusement.
“You always were full of surprises!” Stryke says to Raven, but his eyes are on me.
“As were you, Stryke,” Raven retorts easily. I realise these two must have known each other somehow, somewhen. I file it away, intending to ask questions later. Lots of questions.
Stryke motions for us to take a seat, and we do. “I understand that you have a proposition for me, Raven?” Stryke has a rather deep but smooth voice. He looks old, maybe four-and-a-half to five years old. He’s dark haired, with dark eyes, and relatively few scars on his face. There are quite a few on his hands. He’s medium-sized - larger than Raven but smaller than Deimos was. Most of his advisors/lieutenants are smaller than he is, but they all share the dark hair and eyes.
Raven grins. “We’d like to support your noble cause,” he says. “We’d be willing to give you supplies and our own not so meagre manpower for the right to have a say in how this is run.”
Stryke leans forwards. “The three of you and the girl? And you want to sit on the council.” He’s looking amused. “It’s not a lot that you’re offering me, and a lot that I’m supposed to let you have in return.”
Raven stands and lightly drops the sack in the middle of the table. “Supplies.” He explains. “We’ve enough to feed an army. You have an army,” Raven grins. “How convenient that is.”
One of the advisors takes the bag, and overturns it on the table. There’s a small selection of what we’ve got in there - mostly food, because food’s what’s the most valuable at the moment.
“As you can see, we’ve got food,” Raven points out, after a minute of silence.
The advisor, named Toray, snorts disbelievingly. “I hardly think that a half-sack of MRE’s consists of enough to feed an army, Raven.”
Stryke nods. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”
“Am I?” Raven asks. “Who has that much food that they can afford to throw it around anymore?”
This gets a laugh out of Stryke. “A clever trick, but an easy one.” He says. “I think this is all you have, and you’re trying to get something for nothing.”
The macho posturing is beginning to wear on my nerves. I look up from my indifferent inspection of my nails, which has really been a cover for my scan of the room and all in it. “We must be wasting our time then, Raven,” I say. All eyes are back on me, but I don’t care. “They’re not interested. So let’s go.”
Raven nods, and stands. We all follow suit, Skid swinging the other half-full sack up onto his shoulder so everyone can see it. “I’m afraid you’re right, Red. We’re wasting time with this lot.” Raven says. A few of the guards take a few steps closer, glaring, but waiting for Stryke’s command.
“Do you always allow your bitch to do your thinking for you?” Toray asks Raven, sneering. I ignore it - I’m only a bitch if I respond to the insult.
Raven looks back noncommittally, “Which bitch would you be referring to?” he asks politely, “I don’t have any bitches, last time I checked.”
Toray swings his attention to me. “Not enough of an Eraser for you is he? Stay with me and I’ll show you a real good time.”
I meet his gaze fearlessly. “You’re not my type,” I say, and then snub him by turning back to Raven. “We leaving?”
Toray lunges to his feet. “Ain’t no bitch gonna ignore me!” He snarls. I continue to ignore him, watching Raven, who rolls his eyes. “I’m gonna...”
“Toray!” Stryke interrupts. “Our guests are to be respected.” He says it quietly, but firmly. There’s no threat in his tone, but among Erasers, that’s a threat in itself.
“We’ll allow you time to think on our proposal, then, Stryke.” Raven says, smoothly diverting attention away from Toray’s reprimand. “Keep that,” and he nods at the MRE’s on the table, “As a sign of... friendship.”
Stryke stands. “I shall think on your proposal, Raven. We’ll send word if we choose to meet again.” Then they nod at each other. I resist the urge to sigh and roll my eyes. Males. They have to make things complicated.
We leave without incident, and are taken back to the meeting point via another twisting and turning route. The honour guard let us go, and we’re not followed. Even so, it’s not until I’m back in the Den that I allow myself to relax. Skid and Dusty grab food, but I’m too wound up to eat. Raven follows me to my bed.
We talk about what we thought of the meeting when we wake up. I mention my idea of spying on them, and even though he doesn’t like the idea of me getting caught, he agrees. Two hours later, I’m back in the vents.
Finding my way to the place where I think that Stryke’s command is holed up is not easy. The vents don’t always follow the corridors, they cut through labs, go between levels, and sometimes they end in random places. After three hours, I think I’ve got something. A corridor that looks familiar. It’s not much, but it’s something. I follow the corridor as well as I can, and I’m careful to be extra quiet. Then, jackpot.
It’s the main room, although not much is going on. I don’t see any of the lieutenants, and I learn nothing of tactical worth. It’s interesting to watch a ‘normal’ Eraser pack in how they interact - I’ve never seen that before, so I watch for a while. Then I start moving again.
I peer through the grill, down into the next room. Stryke’s there, sitting by himself, gnawing on one of the bars of food we brought in earlier. He finishes half of it, and then tosses it away, or at least I think he does. He’s not alone in the room - someone else shuffles into view, the bar in hand.
The newcomer is female, I realise with surprise.
I don’t gasp, I don’t even move. I’d be heard, and I know better. I recognise her, just faintly. She was one of us, one of the ones from the Room. I’m not the only one here... well, I knew that, but maybe, maybe I can talk to her. If we merge with Stryke’s group.
She sits down next to Stryke, and they take turns gnawing on the bar. They don’t talk much, but I learn more than a few things. Her name is Thalia, and she genuinely cares for Stryke. My opinion of him rises, and I realise that their relationship is not so different from mine and Raven’s.
Maybe he won’t dismiss me out of hand, just for being female.
I leave as they become... involved. It doesn’t seem right for me to intrude on that.